


The Amazing Bouncing Inquisition

by lafillechanceuse



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Acrobatics, Circus, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Mayhem, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Shoes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafillechanceuse/pseuds/lafillechanceuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After committing an unknown crime, the Inquisitor is arrested. Cassandra, Sera, and the Iron Bull pose as a group of traveling players in order to break the Inquisitor out of the Val Royeaux city jail.</p>
<p>It...goes about as well as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What's In A Name?

"So what do we call ourselves?"   
  
The Iron Bull inquired in a low voice from where he stood guard in front of a copse of trees. "Am I going to be our mascot? I've got a few ideas on if you'd like to hear them."  
  
Sera paused to poke her head out from behind a nearby tree. "Makes things a lot easier, you not having to get changed. Means we'll be quick enough not to have to worry about that too much, yeah?"  
  
" _Hey_ , leave my pants out of this. Names are important."   
  
"I cannot believe the circumstances have lead us to this point," Cassandra groused as she adjusted the modified antaam-saar and kicked her feet aimlessly, glaring at the ridiculously pointy boots. "The Inquisitor has a great deal to answer for."  
  
Sera emerged, checking her reflection in the creek with a satisfied grin. Plaideweave, it had been decided, suited her far better than it ever would Cassandra and Bull's green and purple trousers were best left alone. "Least it means we've got some fun ahead of us. Guards to be idiots, breeches to be stolen. Just like old times, really, before things got serious."   
  
"We still need a name," the Iron Bull pointed out. "Boss isn't going anywhere if we're not a good enough distraction. Sera, you're doing handstands and the like, so we could be..." He spread both hands. " _Twist-a-bull._ "   
  
She wrinkled her nose at his hopeful face. "That's _awful_. _You're awful_. Pick somethin' else and soon or else Inky's staying in the shitter and we're screwed."   
  
"Can we not just say we are simply a group of traveling performers and get on with it?" Cassandra grumbled.  
  
"What kind of shitty disguise is that?" The Iron Bull replied indignantly. "C'mon, we can pull something together. We're the Inquisition. Boss is depending on us."   
  
"What if we just threw a bunch of fancy soundin' shite together?" Sera posited, frowning thoughtfully. "Like...Chief Iron Bull's Phantasmagorical Movable Rumpus."   
  
"Needs more mayhem."   
  
" _Oi_ , you're just pissed because I shot you down earlier!"   
  
"Well, I didn't see you _helping_ \--"  
  
" _Enough_ ," Cassandra cut in. "It will be Chief Iron Bull's Phantasmagorical Movable Mayhem and we are done with it. Now, let us go actually rescue the Inquisitor."   
  
Stroking his chin, the Iron Bull nodded, a grin sneaking onto his face. "That's pretty good. You know, Seeker, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were getting into this."  
  
Nary a disgusted noise to even acknowledge his response passed her lips and with the name set in mind, the party began their walk to the Val Royeaux city prison to spring their erstwhile boss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I for one highly encourage you to imagine Bull attempting to juggle and failing spectacularly. 
> 
> Bien means good in French, fyi.

Cassandra was unsure how to feel about how easily they had walked into the square.  
  
She was accustomed to them all getting stares before, being such a motley crew with a heretical upstart who led the Inquisition of all things. However, she could not help but find it slightly disturbing that the most they had gotten beyond a few glances at the ridiculous outfits they were all wearing (including her utterly ridiculous boots that squeaked, oh, she would have them burned posthaste) and left it at that. So much of her reputation depended on appearances, but now, they passed through the crowds like a light breeze, quietly and uncommented on. They were expected to be strange, accepted as the odd ones out, and left to that.  
  
She would have continued unbearably in this vein, head ticking over till she was liable to explode, had Bull not leaned over to her and jarred her out of her thoughts in his own cheerfully easygoing way.  
  
" _So_...how're you handling those balls, Seeker?"  
  
Sputtering, Cassandra nearly dropped the aforementioned brightly colored balls Sera had dredged up from a cache in the woods hidden there for Maker only knew what reason to serve as a prop. An impromptu juggling lesson ensued after she had been talked out of attempting to pass her swords off as fencing foils. Bull had warned both of them very seriously not to ask about where he learned how to juggle with the glint in his eyes that suggested he had witnessed horrible atrocities committed at the hands of some villainous jugglers, but Cassandra suspected thinking on it would mean they could conceivably imagine Bull failing spectacularly to juggle as a beginner and the Qunari frowned on failure in any form, so they let it pass.  
  
"Passably. I will be able to put up the necessary pretense to distract the guards to free the Inquisitor." Miscalculating, she caught the third ball before it dropped onto the ground. "I hope. Dual wielding swords is surprisingly much easier."  
  
"Probably since you've been doing it longer," Bull replied.  
  
"Fifteen minutes at most should be all this takes, if not ten," she asserted and he nodded in agreement.  
  
"Plus, you've got good aim. You can always punt a guard in the face if you're off and that'll be our signal to live up to the mayhem in our name."  
  
She fought the corners of her lips attempting to quirk upward. "You grew attached to the name rather quickly."  
  
"I like mayhem. We could all use a little more mayhem in our lives."  
  
"Is this you hinting about how you'd like to throw me, then?" Sera piped up.  
  
"Look, all I'm saying is this is the ideal opportunity to test some small scale mayhem, and it'll work out better for us than ice cream in beer."  
  
Pursing her lips, she exhaled. "Right then."  
  
" _Really?!_ " Bull's glee was palpable.  
  
"But _only_ if Cassandra gives the signal. Only then you get to throw me." Sera eyed his horns critically. "I'll be springing all over you, so we'll have a better vantage point than you pickin' me up and swinging me off the ground."  
  
"Can do," Bull asserted enthusiastically, pumping a satisfied fist in victory. Again, with much difficulty, Cassandra refrained from yet another disgusted noise. Of course it would fall to her to do the actual rescuing while those two goofed off. She was more than ready to shoulder that burden. It was better this way. Any other backup would only hinder their mission, surely. She was well suited to the task.  
  
The guard at the door squinted at them as they approached. Maybe it was just the Orlesian accent, but his voice dripped utter disdain after the cursory once-over. "And what is this?" He inquired the way you would chastise a pet nug that shat on the carpet. Cassandra opened her mouth to speak and abruptly found herself at a loss for words.  
  
"We're...ah..we are..."  
  
Oh, Maker, this would never work. This was never going to work. They had doomed themselves and all of Thedas and nothing was ever going to fix this.  
  
"Chief Iron Bull's Phantasmagorical Moveable Mayhem, ser!" Sera cut in with a plastered on smile that didn't reach her eyes and saluted smartly. "Here to support Empress Celene's brave men here in this trying time."  
  
"I am Chief Iron Bull," Bull followed up smoothly in perfect Orlesian. "These are my finest entertainers. We emigrated to Orlais from Rivain to escape political turmoil and could not be more grateful for this nation's warm welcome and shelter. We understand you do a tough, thankless job, ser. I served in Seheron, myself, ser. I understand how difficult it is to keep order. Please allow us to brighten your day, if only for a moment before you return to work." He switched back to Trade. "I'm afraid my players don't understand Orlesian, but they're the best you'll see in Val Royaux. Will you let us entertain you?"  
  
Considerably swayed, whether by the giant horned Qunari looming over him or the sheer amount of honey-tongued bullshit that had flowed from Bull's mouth and dripped off his lips like jewels, the guard nodded. "It would be a pleasure," he professed, Bull sending his companions a one-eyed wink over his head.  
  
_"Bien_ ," the Iron Bull all but purred as they were ushered inside. Cassandra felt her faith returning. Maybe this wasn't doomed from the start.  
  
What could possibly go wrong when they were inside?


	3. Chapter 3

For a plan that was definitely going to go tits up at some point, Sera thought, things were going relatively well.

Oh, it wasn’t a judgement, merely an observation. Everything that Sera had ever been involved in, Red Jenny business or not, had gone tits up. It was just a matter of time.

Dazzling the guards had gone better than expected, but when you had a giant one-eyed Qunari with horns that nearly scraped the ceiling cheerfully lumbering towards you with a determination you could bounce rocks off, that demanded your full, undivided attention. She had picked up Orlesian well enough, but she couldn’t even understand half of The Iron Bull’s patter. Judging by the expressions of the guards, neither could they. They were just happy to be entertained and the grenades Dagna had rigged up to explode into fireworks and confetti were working to their advantage. Cassandra stood stiffly behind them, hands at her sides. Apparently, that passed for acting natural. Sera would’ve despaired, but there was an awful lot of Bull to get around and though he made it as easy as he could, it required her full attention.

“Boss at ten,” she hissed as she made another pass between Bull’s horns, legs raising as she balanced with both hands.

“I see her,” Bull muttered out of the corner of his mouth before offering his hands for her to swing down.

Lavellan leaned against the bars of the cell, pretending to be enthralled. Sera somersaulted onto the ground and stood, bowing when the guards applauded. Lavellan nodded back, jerking her head in the direction of the desk. The padlocked cabinet behind it obviously held her staff and armor. Bull winked at her over the guards’ heads and gave his hands to Sera once more, sidling over towards the desk as he spun her around before throwing her up again, chattering in Orlesian all the while. “ _Balls_ ,” he stage whispered once they were distracted. Cassandra’s eyebrows hit her hairline.

“Excuse m—“

She gritted out before he hushed her. Sera rolled her eyes briefly and tossed the last of the confetti grenades up in the air, then followed it with one of the firework arrows to the delight of the prison guards.

“ _Balls, Seeker_ ,” The Iron Bull hissed. “Get your balls. You’ll juggle and I’ll bullshit while Sera picks the locks. We’ve gotta keep ‘em off the boss until she’s geared up and then we’ll bust out of here.”

“I—“

“It’s up to you. I’ll stretch your introduction as long as I can.”

Beaming at the guards once again, he spread his hands wide, telling them only Maker knew what about her ridiculous outfit and supposed origins. With a quiet disgusted noise that provided no comfort whatsoever, Cassandra pulled the brightly colored silk balls out of her pouch and mentally prepared herself. Surely slaying dragons was not so different from a few minutes of juggling and her reflexes would not fail her. If nothing else, this ordeal would be over soon.

**Author's Note:**

> If perchance, you've seen this work before, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you. I originally started writing this for a prompt on an anon meme and I got so attached to it that I held onto what I've written so I could finish it up properly. I do better with short things, so you'll be seeing weekly installments of this. Thanks for reading!


End file.
